Wish You Were Gone(25)

“How was your day, Kelsey?” Emma asked.

“Oh, just fabulous,” Kelsey said sarcastically.

“I’m guessing not fabulous, then?” Emma tried for a light tone.

“Everyone’s talking about us,” Hunter said, taking another slice. “But I told Kels it’ll blow over. We just need a new scandal for people to glom on to.”

“At least I’m not invisible anymore,” Kelsey said, and took her first, small bite of food.

“Honey. You were never invisible,” Emma said.

Kelsey rolled her eyes. Emma sighed. “When are the musical auditions?”

“First round is on Thursday and call-backs are early next week.” Kelsey perked up ever so slightly.

“Great. I know you’ll do great,” Emma said. “What about you, Hunter? How was your day?”

“Fine. Oh, I gotta get the application in to Duke before the end of the month,” he told her. “Can you write me a check?”

“Sure, honey.” Emma had almost forgotten about Duke. About college. About Hunter leaving. It was going to be so strange next year, just her and Kelsey in that huge house. Maybe Lizzie had the right idea, downsizing. It was James who had wanted the sprawling, modern house in the valley, after all. It had never totally felt like home to her.

There was an odd flutter around Emma’s heart. She had never imagined a future outside that house. James never would have sold. But now…

“Can you write me a check, too?” Kelsey asked.

“For what, honey?” Emma sipped her water.

“The application for Daltry is due soon.”

Her glass clattered against her salad bowl as she placed it back on the table. People at the table in the corner stared.

“I thought we decided you weren’t going to transfer.”

Kelsey’s cheeks flamed red so quickly, Emma thought for half a second that she might be having an allergic reaction. But then she saw the tears and realized her daughter was clenching her teeth.

“What? I’m sorry. Didn’t your father—”

“Mom…” Hunter said.

“But you said I could go!” Kelsey snapped loudly. “Dad was the one who said no. You said you thought it would be good for me! You said you thought I’d get in! Why would you—”

“Kelsey, calm down.” Emma put her hand on her daughter’s leg under the table. Now more than just the corner booth was staring. “Let’s talk about this. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“No! It’s fine! If you don’t want me to go, I won’t go!” Kelsey stood up and balled her napkin. “God, why doesn’t anybody want me to be happy?”

“Kelsey, please,” Emma said through her teeth, reaching for her daughter but unable to reach her past her chair, which had been knocked askew. “I didn’t say that I don’t want you to go. I was blindsided by the question, that’s all. We haven’t talked about it in weeks.”

Tears streamed down Kelsey’s face and she covered her eyes with her hands. She dropped back into her chair.

“Miss? Is everything all right?” a hovering waiter asked.

“It’s fine. We’re fine.” Emma was at a loss. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong. Suddenly she was back in her early thirties and Kelsey was a toddler throwing a hissy fit in the supermarket because she couldn’t have the cookies right now. This was not Kelsey. She’d never been one of those overly emotional, dramatic teenagers. This was too much for her. This whole day was too much. Judgmental Lady in the corner was right—this family was not ready for public dining. She looked helplessly at Hunter.

“I think that Kelsey thought that you were okay with her transferring to Daltry and it was only Dad putting his foot down or whatever that made you say no,” he explained. “So now that Dad’s”—he paused to swallow—“not here…”

“Oh. Oh!” Emma pushed her chair back quietly and put her arm around Kelsey, who leaned into her, sobbing. “I see. I understand.”

It had been James who had put his foot down. Kelsey was right. Emma had been ready and willing to let Kelsey apply. Acting and singing were her passions and she was incredibly talented. Plus she’d never quite fit in at Oakmont Day, for all the positive talk Emma had tried to throw at her daughter. Emma could imagine Kelsey being so much happier at Daltry, among other talented, eccentric, artsy kids—kids who valued things other than their GPA and their trust funds. But James had said no kid of mine is going to art school and if Oakmont Day is good enough for Hunter, it’s good enough for Kelsey and I don’t know why she thinks she’s so goddamned special.

God, she wished she’d had a chance to divorce him. Why hadn’t she done it right then? Why hadn’t she walked out right then?

“What about the play, honey? Wizard of Oz?”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “We’re staging it in December, Mom. I wouldn’t be able to transfer until January.”

“Right. Well then, of course, Kelsey. Of course you should apply,” Emma said, and kissed the top of her daughter’s head, just wanting her to be okay. Just wanting them all to be okay. “If that’s what you really want to do, we’ll make it happen.”